misery is contagious, but so is joy - by maja

“I wanted to eat life by the mouthful, to devour it, to be swallowed up in its dizzying vertigo, to be both actor and spectator, to possess and be possessed, to discover and to create, to make of my life a work of art.” —Simone de Beauvoir, Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter (1958) Every now and then, I meet someone I’d describe as truly alive, someone who punctures the fog and reminds me what it means to feel. They move through the world like circuit breakers, radiating an undeniable voltage. Proximity to them has the power to rewire what you believe life can be and to open new ways of inhabiting yourself. Like fireflies, they carry a glow. To stand near them is to stand near flame, to feel the air shimmer with aliveness. Joy, in their presence, stops being an idea and becomes a texture, something you can breathe. I remember that misery is contagious, but so is joy, and joy, too, can be a way of being. Over time, I’ve learned that some corners of the world are concentrated with misery, and

“I wanted to eat life by the mouthful, to devour it, to be swallowed up in its dizzying vertigo, to be both actor and spectator, to possess and be possessed, to discover and to create, to make of my life a work of art.” —Simone de Beauvoir, Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter (1958) Every now and then, I meet someone I’d describe as truly alive, someone who punctures the fog and reminds me what it means to feel. They move through the world like circuit breakers, radiating an undeniable voltage. Proximity to them has the power to rewire what you believe life can be and to open new ways of inhabiting